


BakingFail

by PumpkinDoodles



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Punisher (TV 2017), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, His Name Is Dog, Post-S1 of the Punisher AU, there is a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2019-11-16 13:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18095513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PumpkinDoodles/pseuds/PumpkinDoodles
Summary: It was supposed to be a safe little book tour. Just Darcy, a dog, and a guy named Pete. Allegedly.





	1. Sweet Lovey

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing!

“Don’t, don’t go after them, Frank,” Darcy said, reaching up tentatively with bloodied fingers to touch Frank’s cheek. It was a drizzly night. The lights reflected off the damp pavement in the parking lot. She could hear the footsteps fleeing the scene. Frank was kneeling over her.

“I’m not going anywhere, Lewis,” Frank said. “I’m right here, right here with you.” He held pressure on her wound. He had a t-shirt pressed against her neck. “Stay calm, okay? The slower your heart rate, the less you'll bleed.” People from inside the bookstore were milling around, looking panicky.

“I don’t think he was expecting that. I really wasn’t,” Darcy said. When they’d tried to take her, she’d fought back. It had happened so fast, she wasn’t sure if the man dragging her away with the knife had slipped or she had fallen. The last thing that had registered were his eyes, blue and wide with alarm. Her own eyelids felt heavy. Were those sirens? She hoped the ambulance would arrive soon.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Frank said.

“Nobody expects HYDRA. It’s like the Spanish inquisition,” she joked. Darcy could feel something warm and coppery in her mouth. The sirens seemed so far away.

“Goddammit, look at me,” Frank said. She said something in a soft voice and he leaned down to listen. “What?” Frank said, squeezing her hand in alarm.

“Nobody expects the HYDRA goon,” she said, thinking of the Monty Python skit.

  


***

 

_Several weeks prior_

Washington, DC

 

“How many hits did the last recipe get?” Jane asked Darcy, as the assistant pulled the double chocolate muffins out of the lab’s toaster oven. They looked delicious, Jane thought. She reached out a tentative finger.

“Janey, no! Too hot! You can have some of the first batch, they weren’t pretty enough for photos,” Darcy told her sternly.

“Thor ate the first batch,” Jane said glumly.

“My last post already has ten-thousand,” Darcy said. She’d set up it up to go live an hour ago. Darcy had a semi-serious baking blog. Two million unique viewers every month. The money they made from advertising on the blog’s sidebar had kept them afloat during their lean period, thank God. That whole post-New Mexico, pre-London, Americans in the wilderness of a Tesco phase. Now that Jane was firmly settled with Thor in DC, Darcy was determined that she’d write a really cute cookbook soon. She already had an agent trying to place _The Lazy Girl’s Guide to Baking With a Toaster Oven, A Scientist, and A Thor._  “I’m setting the timer. You can have one of these in fifteen to twenty minutes. I don’t want a repeat of London’s Great Mouth Burn of 2014,” Darcy scolded. “You whined for a week! Every. Single. Time you drank coffee!”

“Okay, fine,” Jane grumbled. “Have you posted the thing about Ian yet?”

“No,” Darcy said, frowning. She and Ian Boothby had recently ended their on and off engagement. Of course, he had been featured on the blog as her “Sweet Lovey.” No names, no photos, only the nickname Ian had a baby. Now she was stuck recalling their engagement in public like an email sent at 2am after tequila shots. It sucked. She was, honestly, relieved that her Ian Merry-Go-Round had ended, she just wished she hadn’t been so public about it. “Next time,” she told Jane, “love life and blog life stay separate.” The two women nodded at each other. Jane understood. If she so much as frowned in public and someone caught it on a phone camera, five separate tabloids had Thor-Jane breakup covers. They were like Brad and Jen, Darcy thought. Poor things.  


Of freaking course that was the afternoon her agent called to say she’d sold the cookbook. Darcy was thrilled, until the agent expressed dismay at the news of the end of her engagement. “No more Sweet Lovey? I was going to rope him into your marketing plan. Having a cute significant other is a major part of your brand, Darce,” her agent said.

“I have a Thor and a Jane!” Darcy insisted. Wasn’t a Thor and a Jane good enough?

“If you don’t have someone, people will start to speculate about the nature of your relationship with Thor,” the agent said, sighing. “Will you postpone the breakup post until we’ve got the deal settled?”

“Okay,” Darcy said.

“What’s wrong?” Jane said a few minutes later. She’d wandered in for muffins. “I sold my book,” Darcy said. Jane screeched joyfully and hugged her.

“We have to tell every--what is it?” Jane asked.

“My agent thinks if I’m single, people will start to speculate about me and Thor gettin’ freaky or something? She wants me to delay the breakup post,” Darcy said. She sighed.

“That--that freaking sucks. It sucks _eggs,”_ Jane said, so furious that she clenched her fist and squished her muffin.  “Whoops,” she said. “I broke my muffin.” Her face was sad.

“Have another one,” Darcy said cajolingly.

 

***

 

Darcy’s glum feelings turned to panic when the deal was signed and it turned out it was expected that she make appearances _with_ her now-ex in tow. “What am I supposed to do?” she wailed to Jane, one morning while she was doing practice runs to figure out the recipe lineup she wanted. She’d need to cook the things and then a photographer would take the photos. They had her scheduled to do the recipes with a whole team: a ghostwriter for the text sections, a food tester to bake and cook the things again to make sure they worked as well in someone’s else kitchen as in Darcy’s, a photographer for the final product, the works. She had veto power over the chosen recipes and the text, but it was very much a group project where she was the least experienced one. People kept reassuring her that her readers loved her persona, but Darcy felt nervous.

And now she needed a significant other, too?

“What if we convince someone--a friend or something--to do it?” Jane said. “They could go with you on the cookbook tour, so you wouldn’t be alone, you’d feel better.”

“I wish you and Thor could be my Sweet Lovey, Jane,” Darcy said. Jane looked thoughtful; Darcy could see the wheels turning in Jane’s genius brain.

“We’ll find someone,” Jane said firmly. “I don’t really want you doing book tours alone anyway and I’ve got to be in Helsinki on for a week, then Oslo, and London again for those conferences and speaking events, so I’d really rather you have a person with you,” she said to Darcy. Jane had a full schedule of science things, but she had insisted that Darcy pursue her cookbook dream regardless. She didn’t think it was fair for Darcy to postpone a big opportunity just to carry Jane’s rolling suitcase and be the person clapping loudest at Jane’s panel talks.

 

They were still talking about it that afternoon when Jane and Darcy stopped by to see Thor at SHIELD, where Jane had finally agreed to take temporary lab space to run experiments for one--only one!--six-month project. Jane was happily taking SHIELD’s cash because the idea of was one of her lesser hypotheses and she didn’t mind giving it to the agency. She’d actually planned to farm the experiments out to Ian before the breakup and reserve her energy for something else. These days, Jane was so happy and fulfilled, she had five or six new project ideas every day. But with Darcy’s book deal and Thor plantside, Jane was giving herself a steady salary and the freedom to work remotely for SHIELD while she went to conferences and complete and utter freedom from grading or teaching, too.

They ran into Maria Hill in the elevator. “Hi,” Maria said, “I heard you have a book deal, Darcy? Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Darcy said, blushing slightly. It had become weird to be the center of attention with Jane and her genius brain around. Darcy always felt like people were talking to someone behind her or something.

“Are you excited? What’s that like?” Maria asked.

“It’s great--everything’s great. Except my publisher and agent would like me to have a boyfriend,” Darcy said, sighing.

“A boyfriend?” Maria said. Several of the agents in the elevator looked surprised, too.

“It’s part of my brand, apparently,” Darcy said. “Being all coupley and whatnot.”

“It’s retrograde bullshit,” Jane said.

“Yeah,” Maria said. “Sounds like it. What would you even need a boyfriend _for?_ ”

“The book tour,” Darcy said. “Someone to gaze lovingly at me while I sign books is good for marketing, apparently. Gives people the warm fuzzies and no one in the conservative states or talk radio starts speculating that Jane, Thor, and I get kinky at home.”

“Oh,” Maria said frowning.

“Bullshit,” Jane muttered again.

“I’m phoning friends, seeing if someone would like to be my stand-in significant other for a few months,” Darcy said. “Jane thinks it’s safer, too.”

“Thor and I will be overseas some. These are public events, I don’t want her to be kidnapped,” Jane said. “I’m concerned about someone trying something.” Maria nodded, frowning.

“Can it be just anyone?” Maria said.

“I never even said a name or a gender on the blog,” Darcy explained. “Anyone can fill in for Ian.”

“Huh,” Maria said. “I might have an idea for someone. Let me talk to Nick, okay?”

“Sure,” Darcy said. She had a team of people helping with the book, why not let SHIELD solve her Sweet Lovey issue with a qualified agent who could also fight off kidnappers or something?  


***

 

Two or three days later, Maria called her in the lab to say Nick had made arrangements. “This isn’t who I initially thought of, it was Fury’s suggestion. You’re welcome to say no to him, Darcy, really. Seriously,” Maria. “If you are at all uncomfortable…”

“Let me meet the guy first,” Darcy said. She hung up and looked at Jane. “Well, this guy sounds awful. Maria practically warned me off. He must have the personality of an accountant and the face of Freddy Krueger,” she told Jane.

“Yeesh,” Jane said. “You’re going ahead with it?”

“My curiosity is piqued, I wanna meet him,” Darcy said, bouncing out of her chair. “I shall return with news of Freddy the Frightful Accountant, my darling, my bestie, my second-best taste-tester.”

“Second best?” Jane said.

“Thor has you beat for sheer quantity,” Darcy said, slinging her purse over her shoulder. It was a birthday gift from her cousin: an oven-shaped Betsey Johnson crossbody with a wallet that looked like a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

“I want marks for discernment,” Jane said.

“Of course,” Darcy said. Grabbing her coffee, she headed downstairs, humming the Jeopardy song. She had instructions to meet Maria on one of the lower floors of the new SHIELD complex. She went through casually and the desk receptionist sent her through with an odd look. Darcy rounded a corner of the hallway and saw Maria through a glass-walled conference room. Maria appeared to be frowning at a pair of black boots resting on the table. Darcy took several steps forward and Maria spotted her, turning. But Darcy wasn’t looking at Maria.

She was looking at the man leaning back in the conference room’s high-back office chair. She could see his face in profile. The first thing that caught her attention was the military-esque haircut, shaved close on the sides, dark in the center. The haircut emphasized the striking angles of his face. High cheekbones, Darcy registered. Big ears. A flattened nose. He looked more like a Cubist painting than your typical inconspicuous SHIELD agent. He wasn’t wearing the regulation suit, either. His clothes were much more casual: dark jeans, a henley, those heavy boots. He tipped his head back to look at her curiously. Dark, narrow eyes stared out of an angular face. The man was frowning at her. Darcy tapped on the glass. Maria opened the door. “Darcy,” she said, seemingly trying to telegraph something with her eyes, “please come in. This is--”

“Miss Cupcake, huh?” the man said, putting his feet down with a _thunk._ Maria didn’t flinch or show displeasure, but Darcy could feel the irritation radiating from her, despite her smoothed-over expression. Darcy read _flee run it’s an asshole_ in Maria’s eyes. He moved his eyes from the top of Darcy’s head to the sturdy brown boots on her feet in a quick sweep, she noticed.

“Sometimes I’m Miss Cupcake, but more lately, it’s been Miss Brownie,” Darcy supplied archly. “And you are?”

“Why don’t you call me Pete?” he offered. “Pete Castiglione.” He tilted that unusual face at her and smirked. “Ms. Hill, can you give us, uh, a minute?” he asked.

“Sure,” Maria said icily.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Pete said, as she stepped out of the room. “So,” he said wryly, looking Darcy up and down again, this time more slowly, “brownies, huh?” He put one hand behind his head and looked at her expectantly. He looked casual, but Darcy could tell he was paying attention to everything: the people walking in the hall, her, Maria Hill just on the other side of the glass.

“Working on my cheesecake brownies this week, Pete. How’d you end up as the leading candidate for fake boyfriend?” Darcy asked. She thought this was the crucial question. He rubbed the top of his head and sighed.

“You know, I don’t know. I think Fury said something about you being Thor’s girlfriend’s assistant, which makes you a target for wackadoos who think science is the devil and people who just really, really want to get into Thor’s pants and your boyfriend’s a regular nice guy and can’t be here. That sound about right to you?” Pete said.

“More or less,” Darcy said, deciding that she didn’t need to explain that Ian was out of the picture permanently. “You’d think it would be more the people wanting to get in Thor’s pants, but it’s actually the manifesto guys who hate women that keep me up at night,” she told him.

“Right. Real winners. All those tough guys and their keyboards calling women bitches and sluts while they really, really hope they to touch one someday.” He swigged his styrofoam cup of coffee. Darcy laughed.

“Relevant experience? You don’t look like a standard-issue SHIELD agent?” she said.

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head. “Marines.”

“I don’t expect anything to happen,” Darcy said. “But I’ve tased three attempted kidnappers, including one who was a HYDRA mole masquerading as a SHIELD agent.”

“No shit?” he said, giving her a broad smile. “So, you can take care of yourself.”

“I can put up a fight,” Darcy said. “But I’m used to it being a two-woman team. Me and Jane. It’s useful to have a buddy in a crisis.”

“Can’t say I disagree. So, Cupcake,” he said. “You want to do this thing? Take me on?”

“Sure,” she said.

“I got one question, though,” he said, standing up and tossing his cup in the trash.

“Yeah?” she said.

“You like dogs? I got a dog,” he said.

“Oh, I’ll book pet-friendly, he can come, too,” Darcy said.

“He’s a pit, but he don’t--”

“Did Maria not tell you I rescued some dogs during the Thor thing?” she asked. He held the door open for her.

“No,” he said. Maria was standing there, frowning. “She didn’t.”

“He’s hired,” Darcy said.

“We’ve established a rapport,” Pete said.

 

***

 

Standing in Fury’s office, Hill frowned. “Sir,” Hill said. “It seems like a conflict of ethics to leave Darcy Lewis in Frank Castle’s care without telling her that he is Frank Castle.” She stressed the last two words. “People are trying to kill Frank Castle. Often.”

“Nobody’s looking for Castle on Lewis’s book tour, Hill,” Fury said. “Besides, we took him on with the agreement that we’d maintain his cover and post-pardon identity when we decided to use him as a covert SHIELD asset. Lewis doesn’t have the necessary clearance.”

  



	2. Strawberry Lemon Squares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your kudos and comments on this story already! Y'all are awesome!

“You got a bit of flour on your cheek, Nigella,” Pete said. He was sprawled on her couch, channel surfing compulsively, while she baked strawberry lemon squares. They’d decided to get to know one another, hang out a little. Darcy had started at the dog park, which had turned into Pete dragging her to “the only decent pizza place in this godforsaken town,” and now she was baking. It was weirdly like being around Jane, if Jane were somehow more cynical and snarky. But she was glad Pete made her feel comfortable. Jane and Thor were out having a romantic dinner and she didn’t need to be a third wheel or have Jane worry about her safety.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing. I love Nigella. She’s goals, Pete.” Darcy stepped carefully over the dog. Whose name was Dog. She liked Dog.

“Goals, huh?” Pete said. “You want a tv show and an asshole rich guy husband? Dog, get up.”

“No, don’t bug him,” Darcy said. It was nice to have a dog around. “Of course I don’t want an asshole husband. I’m iffy on a tv show, but it wouldn’t be bad to be asked.”

“You’re gonna trip. When’s our first tour date?” Pete asked casually. “You’re not going to call me by that dipshit name, are you?”

“You read my blog?” Darcy said, so surprised that she almost dropped an egg she was trying to crack.

“I did recon,” he said. “But I wouldn’t mind some of those lemon squares.” He smirked at her.

“It’s in four weeks,” Darcy said. “This would just be a local Arlington event to get some publicity, maybe sign some of the t-shirts.” She had a small print-on-demand merch shop attached to the blog, so it was possible that people would bring those to sign. The t-shirt with a cartoon Darcy, Jane, and Thor was pretty popular. The book was available for pre-order, but they didn’t have galleys yet. Still, her agent and the publishers thought that building word-of-mouth was important. Pre-orders determined some of the size of your print run or something? So, Darcy was working on a spiel she could read and they were discussing the potential for cooking demos. Which was freakishly terrifying.

“What?” Pete said.

“I was thinking about cooking demos and panicking internally,” she said. He laughed. “Why is that funny?” she asked.

“It’s just cooking, it’s not that stressful,” he said.

“Says you! Have you ever cooked in public, though?” she said.

“Can’t say I have,” he said. He frowned slightly.

“What?” Darcy asked. His expression had gone solemn.

“Nothing,” he said. He got up, went to the bathroom, and came back when she was stirring the filling ingredients. He looked at her. “You want a hand with that?” he said.

“Sure,” Darcy said. “There’s an apron hanging inside the pantry. Should fit you.” Pete came over, opened the door, and looked at the apron.

“Kiss the cook, huh?” he said.

“Thor is very affectionate,” Darcy supplied. As Pete held the apron out, frowning, she added, “he’s also pretty, uh, large?”

“No shit, Lewis,” he said, tying the apron on. “Give me a job to do.”

“You want to puree some strawberries to add to the filling?” Darcy offered. “I like making vroom-vroom noises when I use the food processor, though.”

“Vroom vroom?”  Pete said, tilting his head. “Just how young are you?”

“I’m very in touch with my inner child, it keeps me young,” she told him. Pete visibly scoffed, but was actually helpful. He even sliced her up some strawberries to make a flower-shaped garnish as the strawberry lemon squares baked. “Oooooh, Pete, that’s classy,” Darcy said. “I’m impressed.”

“I’m an exceptionally sophisticated motherfucker, Lewis,” Pete said.

“That right?” Darcy said, laughing.

“I drink rosé,” he said. She thought he was kidding but when she laughed more, he looked at her with a slightly offended expression. “What? It’s good shit.”

 

They took Dog for a walk while the lemon squares cooled on the counter. The pit bull was eagerly sniffing a set of bushes and somehow tangled his leash around Darcy’s calves. “Whoa,” she said, laughing as she fell over.

“Dog--shit, are you okay?” Pete said, after Darcy landed on the ground with a plop and an _ow._ The pit bull’s attention was diverted back to Darcy. He kissed her. Big slobbery kisses.

“I’m”--she spluttered at the dog saliva on her face--“fine, really,” Darcy said, giggling. She threw her arms around Dog’s shoulders. “I love you,” she told him. His tail thumped and he snuffled at her hair, huffing air in and out between kisses. Darcy looked up. Pete was shaking his head at them.

“You want a hand up?” he asked. He pulled her to her feet with surprising ease. Unprepared, Darcy almost lost her balance again and had to catch herself on Pete’s chest. “You okay?” he said wryly.

“Wildly uncoordinated by nature,” Darcy supplied, stepping away carefully.

“I wouldn’t want the boyfriend to think I was trying to carry you off or something,” he said.

“Oh, no. Not a problem,” Darcy said.

“Not the jealous type?” Pete said. Darcy was watching Dog weave across the pavement, guided by his nose.

“We’re actually broken up,” she said. “So, he won’t be a problem.”

“Oh,” Pete said. “Sorry. Didn’t know.”

“It’s totally okay,” Darcy said. “When he dumped me, it taught me a lesson.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of a lesson?” Pete asked, pausing with Dog.

“Never mention your boyfriend on your blog,” Darcy said. Pete barked out a laugh.

“Not a bad lesson,” he said.

 

They ended up wandering down several side streets, letting Dog follow his nose and talking. Pete was funny, Darcy realized, tucking her scarf closer around her neck. It was a bit cold. “Do you get cold with the, uh, Marine haircut?” she asked.

“No,” he said, chuckling. He ran a hand over the unshaven center of  his hair. He did that a lot. “But, uh, you do freeze to death at night, if you’ve lost your hair and your fucking body fat in boot camp. I remember this one time, I was overseas and it got cold as hell at night. No humidity at this base, so the temperature just drops like a stone. Thirty minutes outside, I was shaking like a leaf. Some of the guys used to jog in place to keep their teeth from chattering.”

“You couldn’t just wear a big coat?” Darcy asked.

“Not a part of the uniform, Cupcake,” Pete told her. Darcy scrunched her nose.

“Oh,” she said, “well, that’s stupid. People should be able to wear a jacket.”

“It’s very cute, you being the human marshmallow and all, but it was a war zone, they didn’t coddle us,” Pete said.

“Pfffht, I’m not a human marshmallow,” Darcy said.

“What’s on your socks, Lewis?” Pete asked wryly. Darcy looked down. The edges of her socks peeked above her brown boots. She made a face.

“That’s s’mores socks, totally different,” she said stubbornly.

“Sure it is,” he said. They walked in silence for a few minutes. It was very companionable, Darcy thought. Dog investigated a door frame that some other dog had probably peed on and Darcy looked through the window of a bakery.

“Oooh, they’ve got cute decorations,” Darcy said. Pete snorted. “Excuse me, are you or are you not totally here because of marketing?” Darcy pointed out.

“We gotta find me a better blog nickname,” he groused.

“I’ll just call you sweetie lovey at the book thing,” she said in a syrupy, teasing voice. Pete groaned. “Sugar?” she offered.

“No.”

“Luv Luv?”

“Nope.”

“Sweets?”

“How’d your boyfriend end up with that nickname, anyway?” he asked.

“His Grandma,” Darcy said. “He’s British. It’s much better in a Yorkshire accent.” She mimicked the way Ian’s family said it. “She called him her _sweet loo-vey_ when he was a baby.”

“Yeah,” Pete said. “That’s it, I’m just not John Lennon enough.”

“You like music?” Darcy asked him. That got them discussing music. It turned out Pete played guitar. He seemed to loosen up even more talking about what a shitty guitar player he was. “I’m sure you’re good,” Darcy said.

“Hell no, I met my—” Pete said, then stopped. He had gone a little still.

“You okay?” Darcy said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. They were both quiet for awhile and Darcy had started to worry when he spoke again.

 

“I keep the hair short because otherwise, people call me a hipster,” Pete said, as they walked.

“You, a hipster?” Darcy said, incredulous. Pete was the least hipster-y guy.

“Yes, ma’am,” Pete said.

“That I want to see. Are we lost?” Darcy said.

“Nah,” Pete said, “we’re good.”

 

***

 

She insisted that he come back in and try the strawberry lemon squares when they got back to the apartment. He was eating one when he looked at her, shook his head, and started to laugh. “Did you not feed the boyfriend, Lewis?” he asked.

“Boyfriend ate mostly low-sugar and organic,” she said. “Very health conscious. He didn’t eat sweets, so he wasn’t really into my baking. Thank God I have Thor and Jane, they love it.”

“Did you a favor by leaving, then,” Pete said. “These are great.”

“What’s that mean? Get you a man who can appreciate your work?” Darcy said jokingly.

“Yes,” he said. “If you’re gonna do this cookbook thing, you ought to have somebody who thinks it’s great."  Darcy shrugged and Pete scolded her for settling, which made her laugh. As they sat around talking, Thor and Jane arrived back.

“Dog, it is most excellent to see you again,” Thor said seriously.

“Is he for real?” Pete whispered to Darcy.

“Yeah, he loves dogs, especially our dogs,” Darcy said.

“Huh?” Pete said.

“On Asgard, they only have war wolves, so he thinks our dogs are fantastic. War wolves are a little snappy. He was so excited when I told him Midgardian dogs liked being petted and scratched,” Darcy explained. Thor was rolling on the floor with Dog, laughing happily. Jane came over and almost shoved Pete in her eagerness to get to the lemon squares.

“They’re pink!” Jane said.

“Strawberry lemon squares,” Pete said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Can I have a few? I had an idea at dinner,” Jane said excitedly.

“Of course,” Darcy said, as Jane put two on a plate and hurried over to the whiteboard they kept in the living room. She started pulling receipts and napkins out of her jacket pockets and put them in a little pile on her living room desk behind the couch.

“Do you have to have an idea to get a lemon square?” Pete said, looking quizzical.

“Nope, this just means she’s going to be up working until she sugar crashes, like a five year old,” Darcy said. They both looked at Jane.

“I’ve seen five year olds who were calmer,” Pete said wryly.

“She is a creature of great enthusiasm. I find it endearing,” Darcy said.

“Uh huh,” Pete said. On the floor, Thor giggled. Darcy smiled.

“His kisses are quite slobbery!” he said.

 

Before he left, Pete looked at her seriously. “Thanks for tonight,” he said.

“The lemon squares were no biggie, really,” Darcy said. “Thanks for doing this.”

“Come back soon!” Thor called from the couch.

“Does he mean me or the dog?” Pete said dryly.

“Both of you,” Darcy said. “Duh.” She bumped his shoulder playfully. “I’ll make something really cool next time. Wait ‘til you try my cupcakes, dude.”

  


***

 

“Try her cupcakes,” Frank muttered to Dog. “Can she not fucking hear herself?” The dog didn’t reply; his collar jingled as he leaned towards the curb, nose engaged. “She must not hear herself,” Frank said out loud, unlocking the car with the fob in his pocket. Dog merely hopped into the backseat of Frank’s recently leased SHIELD vehicle. Behind the wheel, Frank sighed and peered up at Darcy’s apartment window. There was a light on. He wondered what she was doing now. Dog stuck his head between the two front seats. “Am I in trouble here?” Frank said. “You’re not gonna reply, are you?” He patted the dog and drove away.

 

At his spartan apartment, he picked up the secured phone and dialed. “Hey, brother.”

“Frank, please tell me you haven’t killed somebody already,” Curtis said. “I was sleeping.”

“I haven’t killed anybody in months,” Frank said.

“You shouldn’t sound so proud of that,” Curtis said.

“No?” Frank said, frowning skeptically.

“I’m proud of you, though. New job, new town, new dog,” Curtis said, sniffling a little and clearing his throat. He had been asleep. “Big steps. You having trouble sleeping?”

“Nah,” Frank said. “It’s the new job. Being Mr. Cookbook.”

“It’s not fun?” Curtis said. When they’d last talked, Frank had sounded optimistic. For Frank. He’d implied the cookbook woman seemed easygoing enough, didn’t mind Dog, and would listen to sensible security advice, in a few wry sentences.

“I wanted to talk to her about Maria and the kids tonight,” Frank said. “Just to have somebody to tell that story about the time Lisa got up before us and decided to make a cake and cracked eleven eggs in a bowl on the floor,” Frank said. “Whole carton of eggs, man.” He smiled at the memory, even though his eyes were glassy with tears.

“Yeah, Frank,” Curtis said gently.

“I miss talking about them,” he said. “Your whole life just disappears and they give you this new identity and it makes you think, you know, _who remembers my family? My wife? My kids? If I don’t talk about ‘em, is it like they never existed?”_ He paused. There was a moment of silence on the line.

“You know that’s not true,” Curtis said gently. “You remember. I remember. People loved Maria and Frank Jr. and Lisa, Frank. They’re remembered.”

“Yeah,” Frank said.

“But if you want someone to talk to, I don’t see why you can’t tell her about your family,” he said softly.

“I just don’t want her to find out who I am and treat me different or be afraid,” Frank said. Curtis started to laugh. “What?” Frank said defensively.

“She lives with Thor, doesn’t she? I don’t think she’d be afraid, Frank.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't made strawberry lemon squares yet, but it's on my list: http://bakingbites.com/2008/06/strawberry-lemonade-bars/


	3. A Serious Relationship With Grilled Cheese

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your kudos and comments! Y'all are the best.

Darcy made plans to meet Pete and Dog for a walk during lunch. Thor had agreed to make sure Jane actually ate something and Pete told her he had lunch handled. “Hi,” she said, meeting him outside the SHIELD building. “What are we doing for lunch?” she asked, petting Dog.

“Street food, Lewis,” he said. They walked for a few blocks. There was a small public park with a dog area. She realized there were several trucks in a circle.

“A grilled cheese truck?” Darcy said. ”Pete, you’re a genius.”

“Seemed like a you thing,” he said, chuckling. They got in line. Dog sniffed at the person ahead of them, who jumped when Pete scolded the pit, then beamed at Dog and fed him a potato chip. Darcy bounced on her heels. “Why are you so happy?” he asked. He was looking at her with a puzzled expression, head tilted sideways.

“I usually have sad desk lunch in the lab, outdoor grilled cheese is legitimately thrilling,” Darcy told him. “Has anyone ever told you that you really look like Dog when you make that face?” she asked.

“You think so?” he said.

“Totally,” Darcy said.

“I know I’m not a good-looking guy, but that seems a little hurtful to him,” Pete said, patting Dog comfortingly. Darcy scoffed.

“Don’t even _pretend_ women don’t fall all over you when you wear the uniform, goober,” she said. “I wasn’t born yesterday.” Pete looked at her quizzically as she ordered a grilled cheese and chips.

 

They were sitting on a bench watching Dog play with a labrador, when he looked off into the middle distance. “The women didn’t actually fall all over me,” he said quietly.

“No?” Darcy said, eating a potato chip.

“There was this woman named Maria,” he said softly. “My wife. I used to be married. We had two kids.”

“Yeah?” Darcy said softly, looking over in concern. She looked back down as soon as she saw his expression.

“They, uh, they aren’t here anymore. They died,” he said. “So, I don’t talk about it. But the other day, I remembered something. Lisa--that was my little girl--Lisa, she got up one morning. Me and Maria were sleeping in. It was a Saturday. Anyway, Lisa decides she wants to bake a cake.” He paused.

“Yeah?” Darcy said, trying to sound encouraging. She was looking down at her grilled cheese.

“Thank God, she couldn’t reach the oven. I wake up and go to the kitchen and almost fall over this bowl, this bowl that she’s got full of cracked eggs. A whole carton of eggs,” he said, laughing. “She was so happy, she just beamed at me, I’m standing there in my socks and my drawers and she goes, ‘Dad, I’m baking you a cake,’ like it was the best thing in the world. I was just back from deployment,” he explained.

“How old was she?” Darcy asked.

“About six,” he said, chuckling. “Man, her face. That little face.” He wiped at his eyes. She passed him a tissue without saying anything. “Fuck. Thank you. I hate being the weird asshole who cries in public,” he said. He blew his nose.

“You need another one?” Darcy asked.

“Yeah, yeah, gimme that. I don’t want to ruin your damn lunch.”

“Not possible,” she said. “I love this grilled cheese too much.” Pete laughed.

“Yeah?”

“I’m thinking of asking it on a date,” Darcy said. “Seeing if it’s single or whatever?”

“Like maybe the cheese is spoken for?” Pete said.

“Some macaroni might have dibs, I dunno,” Darcy said.

On the walk back, Darcy caught Pete doing a half-skeptical, half-pleased face whenever someone complimented Dog on how well behaved he was. “People love him,” Darcy said.

“I’m trying for him not to be spoiled, Lewis. Stop asking people if he can have their donut,” he said.

“She wasn’t eating it,” Darcy said. “And you’re a good, good boy, aren’t you?”

“Sure,” Pete said.

“You know,” Darcy said, as the SHIELD building came into sight, “you can talk to me about anything you want.” Pete nodded. “Also, I’m making some brownies tonight, so if you feel like stopping by, you’re both invited,” Darcy said. She gave Dog a hug and Pete shook his head.

 

***

 

“Pete had a wife and two kids,” Darcy told Jane quietly at home. “They died.” She was prepping for brownies and Jane was doodling theorems. In the distance, Darcy could hear Thor singing Britney Spears in the shower.

“All three of them?” Jane said. “How?”

“It didn’t seem nice to ask,” Darcy said. “He was already a little teary talking about his six year old trying to bake a cake.”

“Oh,” Jane said. “Should I be nicer to him?” Darcy scrunched her nose and thought.

“No,” she said finally. “If he thinks you’re being nice out of pity, it might hurt his feelings. Be your normal, workaholic, semi-rude self.”

“Hey!” Jane said.

“What? I said semi-rude.”

“Pfffht, I could fire you.”

“How would you survive?” Darcy asked.

 

She had the brownie batter made when the doorbell rang. Darcy went to answer it--Jane was working obliviously at her whiteboard--and swung the door open to find Pete leaning against the doorframe, Dog at his feet. “Hey,” Darcy said.

“I brought ice cream,” he said. “That goes with brownies, right?”

“It does,” Darcy said. Behind her, there was a skidding sound and Dog took off into the apartment.

“My friend Dog!” Thor said cheerfully. Pete peered around her shoulder and his eyes widened. Darcy looked back. Thor was sitting on the floor, wrapped in a tiny pink towel. “Hello, friend,” Thor said, looking up at them as Dog kissed his face.

“Pete brought ice cream,” Darcy said.

“Fantastic news,” Thor said.

 

“I still can’t tell if he’s for real or just shitting me?” Pete whispered to Darcy as they walked to the kitchen.

“You make adjustments,” Darcy said. Pete did his Dog head tilt again.

“Is there anything in life that you can’t put a smiley face on?” Pete said.

“Genocide and the destruction of the environment?” Darcy said, scrunching her mouth to one side. Pete started to laugh. “Those aren’t funny!” Darcy said.

“I’m not laughing at genocide, I’m laughing at all the little faces you make,” he said. “You scrunch the nose, or you do the mouth to one side, and by the way, your eye roll is very obvious.” He waved her own spatula at her and Darcy put a hand over her heart.

“That--that is a slander, sir! Unhand my spatula!” Darcy said threateningly. Pete laughed even harder.

 

***

 

That night, she and Pete stayed up late talking about all kinds of little things: he talked about being deployed overseas and eating strange food, she talked about Norway and London and how weirdly calm it had been in New Mexico, pre-Thor. “At the time, I thought I was bored,” Darcy said, “but sometimes I wish I could get that back, that sense of-- _something.”_

“Peace, Lewis,” he told her gently. “That’s what a normal life feels like. You think you were bored, but that was just peacefulness.”

“Well, that’s just freaking great,” Darcy said.

“My friend from Iraq who runs a support group--his name is Curtis, he lost his leg and now he sells insurance--he would probably say you have that PTSD because of the aliens and shit,” Pete said.

“Does he tell you that you have PTSD?” Darcy asked curiously.

“Nobody has to tell me,” Pete said. He huffed out a sigh. “I did a lot of things I’m not proud of,” he said quietly. “Real ugly shit.”

“Yeah?” Darcy said.

“What’s the worst is that I volunteered to do them,” he said quietly. “I chose that, I chose to leave my family multiple times, re-up, all that shit.” He gestured in frustration.

“Wouldn’t it be worse if you were proud of them?” she said. He nodded a little.

“Yeah,” he admitted, “but I could have walked away and I didn’t. Now I always fucking wonder, _why didn’t I walk away? Why didn’t I go sell insurance?”_

“Because the people you served with were your friends?” Darcy offered gently. He seemed to mention various friends he’d served with for what sounded like a long time. “Why did I stay with Jane? Because she was my friend,” Darcy said.

“Well, that’s the worst thing of all,” Pete said, shaking his head.

“What is?” Darcy said carefully.

“When you find out your friend was never your friend at all.” He started to laugh, but it had a bitter, harsh edge.

“Hey, Pete, you okay?” she said softly. “You want a brownie?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Hit me with some chocolate. Why do women love chocolate anyway?” he asked.

“Uhhhhh, it boosts your serotonin levels and we’re all cheap floozies for that good serotonin?” Darcy suggested. Pete laughed. She brought him another brownie. “Dog will always be your buddy,” she said.

“That little schmuck left me for Thor an hour ago,” Pete groused. Dog was apparently sleeping with Jane and Thor.

“Which is a good thing, because you’re spilling brownie crumbs everywhere!” Darcy said. She moved to pick one of the big crumbs up to put it in a napkin and touched his leg. Too late, she realized he might think she was making some kind of gross pass at a sad widower and scolded herself internally. But when she looked at Pete, she didn’t see disapproval or revulsion. He was perfectly still, but something flickered in his expression.

“Lewis?” he said.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t want chocolate,” he said, reaching for the front of her shirt and easing her towards him, so that she sat in his lap. Their faces were very close. He breathed, moving his nose so that it bumped her cheekbone. Darcy couldn’t look away. Those dark eyes stared into hers with hunger.

“You sure?” she said.

“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward and kissing her. Fingers wrapped around her head, he pushed his mouth against hers a little roughly and eagerly. She made a little sound and he softened, tongue teasing at her upper lip. His hand trailed down over body and Darcy leaned in, bracing herself against his shoulders. Fumblingly, he slid a hand under the hem of her shirt, up and up. His hands were colder than her skin and she shivered when his thumb ran along the bottom edge of her underwire.  

“Jesus, Pete,” she said.

“Yeah?” he said, more wryly. “You want to show me your bedroom?’

“Yes,” she said, standing up and pulling him to his feet. They started kissing in the hallway and taking each others’ clothes off in the doorway of her room. Darcy was startled by his intensity, the way he practically shoved her onto the bed with greedy kisses, prying her bra off.

“Been awhile for you, too?” he asked, shirtless, as he knelt to slide down her underwear.

“Mmm-hmmm.” She nodded, distracted by his strength, visible even in the dim light. He gave her a beaming smile that transformed his entire face and she was momentarily shocked. Pete kissed her again, climbing onto the bed so that his knees bracketed her hips. Darcy eased back and said one word: “Condom?”

 

They didn’t talk during sex. He breathed roughly and muttered as he moved; he’d overwhelmed her so much that Darcy couldn’t really make coherent sentences. She turned her head to watch the two of them in her dresser mirror: the muscles of his back moving as he drove into her, her arms looped around him to brace herself. She couldn’t see his face. He’d buried it against her shoulder. But she could certainly feel him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that escalated quickly.
> 
> Jon Bernthal, by the way, smiles beautifully, even if Frank doesn't get to smile much. He could challenge Sebastian Stan for sweetest smile in the MCU:


	4. Miss Princess Portal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos! I felt like writing a little more Darcy/Frank.

Pete was quiet in the morning. Too quiet, Darcy thought. He ate breakfast without talking to her much or being physically affectionate. She was getting a distinct cold shoulder vibe. Finally, he sat his coffee cup down. “I should go,” he announced, rubbing the top of his head. 

“Okay,” Darcy said calmly. She’d noticed he still wore his wedding ring on a chain around his neck. It maybe made her more understanding than she might’ve been if he was a regular schmuck. She wondered if he’d dated since his wife died? She doubted it. He looked almost guilty. “Take a brownie with you,” she told him, wrapping one in saran wrap and handing it to him. He stared at it for a long minute, then called the dog, clipping his leash on and tucking the brownie in a pocket. He went to the front door, then stopped, his hand on the door handle.

“You’re just going to let me leave like that?” he asked.

“I’m not keeping you prisoner,” Darcy said lightly. “And if you want to forget about last night….?”

“Yeah,” he said, “I think we should.”

“Okay,” she said calmly. He wouldn’t meet her eyes.

 

She dismissed it when Jane asked how she felt about it at work that day. She didn’t have any claim on Pete. Instead, she steered Jane back to her final work projects. “We should really plan out what you want to get done before you go,” Darcy told her.

“Really? You don’t want to over-analyze?” Jane said.

“Not this,” Darcy said. “He’s lonely, Jane. Or guilty, I’m not sure. Either way, he’s not the usual guy. But do you want to speak at Carnegie-Mellon in August or not?” she asked.

“Um, yes?” Jane said, sounding doubtful.

“I hate when you phrase it like a question. It makes me feel like I’m your stage mom and I’m pushing you into a beauty pageant,” Darcy grumbled. “Miss Princess Portal.”

“I’m not wearing a bathing suit, but I would win Miss Congeniality--” Jane began, before Darcy howled with laughter.

“No, Jane, you would not,” she said. “You would be the insanely driven contestant who scares the younger kids.”

“They’re probably just chickens,” Jane said. 

“Telescopes and Tiaras!” Darcy added.

***

Darcy was settling on the couch to read something for Jane that night when there was a knock. She looked through the peephole. It was Pete. She opened the door. “Hey,” she said.  Dog shoved himself in the doorway and Pete scolded him. “It’s okay,” Darcy said. “He can come in.” Pete let go of the leash and Dog pushed his way in. A few seconds later, Darcy heard Thor’s excited greeting. Pete was still standing in the doorway, looking to his right.

“Can I come in?” he asked, finally looking at Darcy.

“Sure,” she said. “Did you want a drink?” 

“You got beer?” he asked. He looked a little agitated, she thought. This impression was confirmed when he sat down at the kitchen island, leg shaking nervously. She handed him a bottle. “Thanks,” he said.

“No problem,” Darcy said. She futzed around, cleaning a little.

“Why are you fucking doing this?” Pete said suddenly.

“What?” Darcy said.

“Being too fucking nice to me. I slept with you and then I bailed, okay, I don’t deserve nice. I’m not nice. I’m kinda an asshole,” he said.

“So?” Darcy said.

“So call me an asshole,” he said sharply. “Tell me off for treating you bad. Don’t let me get away with my shit.”

“Okay,” Darcy said, making herself a single serve coffee. “You’re an asshole,” she told him. 

“Well, then why are you fucking smiling?” Pete said, sounding exasperated.

“I like the sound a Keurig makes,” she said. “Coffee making is Pavlovian for me. It sparks joy.”

“It sparks joy,” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re crazy, you know that?” He pointed at her.

“I’m crazy?” Darcy said, raising an eyebrow.

“You live in this crazy world of, like, goddamn brownies--”

“Did you eat your brownie?” she asked. “How were the raspberries?”

“Is that what that fucking was?” he said.

“Yes,” Darcy said, very patiently.

“They were good, all right? Really good damn brownies. Don’t make that face at me,” Pete grumbled. “You’re like the damn dog.”

“What?” Darcy said.

“When I found him, these Irish fuckers in Hell’s Kitchen were trying to make a fighting dog of him. But he ain’t made that way.” Pete huffed. “He looked at me with these big eyes and I knew I had to get him out of there.”

“I don’t follow you,” Darcy said.

“He was innocent, okay? Not a mean bone in his body. Didn’t even fight back when they--they were gonna--” Pete said, shaking his head.

“Were they going to hurt him?” Darcy said, horrified.

“Yeah,” Pete said, running a hand across his head, all the way to the back of his neck.

“Well, I’m glad you got him out of there, but I still don’t get it,” Darcy said. Pete looked up at her. “Did you want food?” she asked. “Pete?” she said. “What are you thinking?”

“I know I’m no good,” he said quietly, “but I--I--”

“You feel what?” Darcy said coaxingly. He leaned his chin on his hand, smiling a little.

“Like you got my head all fucked up,” he said. 

“It’s okay to be lonely, Pete,” Darcy said, trying to be comforting. “You don’t have to beat yourself up,” she told him. She walked over to him and patted his shoulder gently. He’d turned when she moved to stand next to him. He was looking at her intently, eyes roving all over her face.

“No,” he said. “I’ve been lonely for a year.” He put his hands on her hips, rubbing up and down. He looked at her, not removing his hands. “Are you lonely?” he asked, eyes on her face.

“Sometimes,” Darcy admitted.

“Last night?” he asked.

“No,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said. He tilted his head and licked his lips. When he reached for the edge of her pants, Darcy was surprised.

“Pete?” she said, as he slid out of the chair and knelt at her feet, dragging her leggings down with him. “Are you sure--?” she said. He looked up at her, his expression earnest.

“Yeah,” he said, “I am. Hold on to the damn counter.”

“Oh--what are you doing?” Darcy said, when he scooped her a moment later and sat her on the counter.

“I don’t like the angle,” Pete muttered, leaning his head over her as she lay back. It felt incredible. Darcy closed her eyes, so she could concentrate on the feel of his mouth. She was melting into the sensation of being totally relaxed when there was a small, abrupt screech. Like a startled parakeet.

“You bake on that kitchen island!” Jane said. She’d stumbled into the room and sounded horrified. Darcy craned her chin up to look. Her knee was sprawled over Pete’s shoulder, blocking her view of the hallway.

“Sorry!” Darcy said. She started to laugh. “It’s not like you and Thor haven’t had sex everywhere!”

“Oh my God,” Jane said, footsteps retreating. “Not in the kitchen, you savages!”

“Roll your whiteboard into the other goddamn room,” Pete called over Darcy’s knee, then dipped his head down again. He paused. “You like this, right?” he said.

“Uh-huh,” Darcy said, nodding. He laughed.

“She thinks we’re savages?” he said, shaking his head. “How did she figure out the secret?”

 

***

“Hey,” Pete said, when Darcy wiggled in bed. She opened her eyes slowly. He was looking up at the ceiling, one arm around her. His fingers drummed against her bare shoulder.

“Can’t sleep?” Darcy said. It didn’t look light outside yet, based on the blue edges of sky she could see around the blinds. Pre-dawn, she guessed.

“I heard a noise,” he said. He grinned briefly. “It was Jane and that goddamn whiteboard.” He mimicked--very well--the squeak of Jane’s markers as she scribbled frantically. “I think she just went back to sleep,” Pete said. Darcy looked at her phone. 5:36am.

“Yeah, that’s typical Jane,” Darcy said. “She gets ideas....”

“After sex?” he said.

“Pretty much. How’d you know?” Darcy said.

“The damn dog hid in here with us,” Pete said, his expression so wry that Darcy started to laugh and put her cheek against his chest, shaking with glee. “It’s not that funny,” Pete said, looking across the room. He was funny in that he was always looking at you sideways, not directly, Darcy had realized. But he was smiling.

“I’m sorry,” Darcy said. “I’m just really used to living in this world.” 

“This, this right here, is why you’re a very strange woman,” he said, toying lightly with the ring around his neck. 

“It’s funnier to see it through someone who’s not used to the weird,” she said.

“You don’t mind this?” he asked.

“No,” Darcy said. “For God’s sake, Pete, anybody who makes you feel bad about having a family is a total fuckface. And not the good kind.” He laughed. 

“Okay, Miss Cupcake. Message received.”

  
  



	5. Have Technical Look At It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos.

They had a very nice time leading up to Darcy’s first book event with Pete. She and Jane did some lab work, Thor sparred with the SHIELD guys, and Pete took Darcy to lunch every day. Darcy had asked him to let her work her way through the grilled cheese truck’s menu and he’d obliged. They were talking about Pete’s ostensible backstory when he sighed, clearly aggrieved. “What the fuck is all this?” he said, looking at Darcy’s “character map” for her blog boyfriend.

“Well, I stole the idea from a writer?” she said.

“What writer?” he said.

“The _Harry Potter_ lady?” Darcy said. “I saw an interview where she said she mapped out her character’s arcs, so I thought I would give you a map for who you’re pretending to be…”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Pete said, looking at her sideways. He looked amused. “It’s good. You know, in theory. Like you and the British guy.”

“But?” Darcy said archly. He was flirting with her. He had a funny way of flirting. The man Marine flirted, she’d realized: he gave you total shit, razzed you constantly, and then chased you around the bedroom. She found it oddly endearing. He was like a foul-mouthed puppy.

“Who wants to fucking pretend?” he said. “People will be able to tell the minute I open my mouth that I’m playing a character.”

“So, what would you do?” Darcy asked.

“Throw it all away,” he said. “Play it by ear, improv, just look at you,” he said. “Forget this.”

“Just start with nothing?” Darcy said.

“Isn’t that where we all start? Besides,” he said, grinning, “I like looking at you. That ought to convince somebody.”

 

They threw away the character map. Also, Pete held her hand on the way back to SHIELD. Darcy tried not to read too much into it, but she really loved the calloused, rough feeling of Pete’s hands. It was such a contrast to the gentleness of his touch.

“Are you coming over tonight?” she asked, as they stood in front of the building. She slid her arms around his neck as Dog smelled the pavement.

“You want me to come over?” he asked.

“Uh-huh, I do,” Darcy said. She nuzzled him. “I never want to push you, but I’m always happy to see you,” she told him, anxious that he shouldn’t feel pressured.

“You’re not pushing me, Lewis,” he said. “And even if you were, you’re a little woman. You’d have to work a lot harder to get anywhere with those baby muscles you got--”

“Phffft,” she said, sticking her tongue out. Impulsively, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the mouth. He returned her kiss, tilting her head gently as she pressed herself against his body. “I gotta go, Pete,” she said, when they separated for a second.

“Yeah,” he said. “You better.”

“I better?”

“If you wanna get back to work at all, lady,” he said, clucking his tongue. Darcy scoffed and he pulled her in close for another kiss. Finally, she dragged herself away reluctantly. It was difficult not to want to hang out with Pete all the time. “Bye, Dog!” Darcy called, as she went inside.

 

Neither of them realized they were being watched.

 

“How was lunch?” Darcy asked Jane. Deep in pre-conference sciencing, Jane merely grunted. “I had a great time,” Darcy said, continuing as if Jane had spoken. “I had the three cheese melt, it was delicious. Dog ate my crusts for me. Pete and I made out a little in front of the office, like a pair of horny teenagers in detention.” She sat down at her desk and opened her work emails. “Or you and Thor in 2013, same difference, really. I’m looking forward to this book talk on Tuesday. He’s going to keep me calm, I know it. Who is---” Darcy said. She gasped and then made a sound. Jane realized Darcy had stopped talking. Jane looked over. The hand on Darcy’s mouse was shaking.

“What’s wrong?” Jane said. “Darcy?”

“Do you--do you remember those news stories about Frank Castle?” Darcy whispered in a horrified voice. “Someone’s sent me his file.”

“Why?” Jane said, leaning forward. “Why would someone send you--” Jane froze in horror when she saw the Marine enlistment photo.

“Pete is Frank Castle,” Darcy said. Then she ran to the bathroom and threw up.

 

Jane looked at the file and then found herself gagging at all the other photographs: the dead and mangled photos of the Castle children, Maria Castle’s body, and Frank’s seemingly-endless stream of victims. Bullet-ridden Irish mobsters. Cartel members hanging on meathooks. Jane felt sick--and then she felt angry. When a pale and shaking Darcy returned from the bathroom, Jane dragged her upstairs. To the director’s office. “What did you do?” Jane said, pointing at Fury’s one visible eye. “What did you do?” Jane repeated.

“Pardon me, doctor?” he said coolly.

“Frank Castle,” Jane said. At the name, Darcy gagged into Fury’s trash can. It would be a long time before she would be able to have grilled cheese again.

“I am obligated to maintain the cover of certain SHIELD assets,” Fury said.

“Just what does he do for you, Nick?” Darcy said in a strangled voice. He looked at her, then handed her a handkerchief.

“So far? Nothing, Lewis. He’s just a weapon I keep on hand in case any shit goes down. In the meantime, the federal government gets to know where he is and what he’s doing at any given time. I thought you were a good influence on him,” Fury said. “I didn’t think Cap wanted a new roommate.”

“You--you used Darcy to rehab a mass murderer?” Jane sputtered, irate. Fury looked at Darcy.

“The man saw his wife and kids shredded to pieces in front of him. I felt sorry for him, even if his methods...leave something to be desired. This was his second chance to get himself together. At a certain point, a call is going to be made at the top and they’ll decide he’s a social liability,” Fury said. “I won’t be able to do anything to help him then. Funny that he has that dog, isn’t it? Lots of places put them down when they slip and show aggression, too.” Darcy looked at her boss. Fury looked back at her. Jane was still muttering.

“C’mon, Jane, let’s go,” Darcy said. “You should probably find out who sent me that email,” she told Fury. “They sent me everything.”

“I’ll have technical look at it,” he said.

 

***

 

When Frank showed up that night, Thor was waiting with Mjolnir. “I am afraid I will have to ask you to leave and never return, my friend,” he told Frank. “We know who you are and Darcy no longer wishes to see you at present.” As he talked, Frank had gone white. He looked at Thor. He looked at the hammer. He looked towards Darcy’s bedroom door.

“She don’t wanna talk to me?” he said quietly.

“No,” Thor said solemnly. “She does not.”

“Your file did plenty of talking for you,” Jane said, emerging from the other room.

“My file?” he said. “Shit.” He grew agitated. “Shit,” he said, pacing. Thor tensed a fraction, expression serious. Jane had showed him the file photos.

“Someone sent it to her today,” Jane said. “She came back from lunch to photos of guys you’d strung up on hooks _alive_ , Pe--Frank. Just what kind of a person does that?”

“Those people deserved that,” he said defensively. “They were killers. Worse than scum.”

“Were they? All of them?” a voice said softly. Darcy was standing in the hallway. She didn’t step into the light of the living room. Only her toes were revealed by the pool of light; her face was in shadow. Dog wagged his tail at the sound of her voice. “Does anybody truly deserve that?” she asked him. He swallowed.

“I know how it looks,” he said.

“How could anybody know what other people deserve?” she asked.

“I knew,” he insisted.

“I don’t even think you deserved to do that to yourself, whoever you are,” she whispered. Her feet turned and moved away.

“Darcy,” he said. He heard her door click shut.

“I think you need to go. Now,” Jane said. Then she went into Darcy’s room. Frank shook his head.

“Fuck,” he muttered. At the front door, Thor said goodbye in a strangely gentle voice. The Asgardian patted the pit bull, then let his hand rest on Frank’s shoulder.

“It is too bad things must happen this way sometimes,” Thor said.

“Yeah,” Frank said bitterly. “I suppose it is.” He made to leave and then stopped. “If she ever needs any help--” he said quietly, not meeting the other man’s gaze. Thor nodded.

 

***

 

“I fucked up, I fucked up real bad,” Frank told Curtis on the phone that night. “She found out from somebody else. They--they sent her my file, Curtis,” he said grimly. He’d been sitting in his bed, trying to read or sleep. He was too agitated. When he tried to read, he got sleepy, and when he tried to sleep, he had nightmares.

“Fuck,” Curtis said. “Brother, I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Frank said. “That’s what I keep telling myself. I shouldn’t matter. What right do I have to--” he trailed off.

“Have an actual life?” Curtis offered gently.

“I hung people on meat hooks, Curtis,” Frank said.

“Yeah,” Curtis said. “You did. Personally, I was looking forward to a version of you that didn’t do shit like that.” He sighed so sincerely that Frank started to laugh.

“What the fuck did you think I was gonna do?” he asked.

“Hell if I know. Maybe start a goddamn pit bull rescue or some shit?” Curtis said.

“A dog rescue?” Frank said incredulously.

“The nice lady who was giving you muffins also rescued some dogs during that whole alien thing in New Mexico,” Curtis said.

“Yeah?” Frank said, rubbing his forehead.

“It’s on her Instagram,” Curtis said. “They stay in touch, her and the people who adopted one of the dogs.”

“What kinda dog?” Frank asked.

“A little beagle named Snoopy,” Curtis told him.

“You been looking at my girl’s Instagram?” Frank said.

“Your girl, huh?” Curtis said.

“If she’ll forgive me about lying--and, you know, mass murder,” he said.

“What would Karen say?” Curtis said.

“That I deserved to be happy, probably,” Frank said, then made a noise. It was fond, if incredulous.

“What?” Curtis said.

“Karen goes too damn easy on me, man. That was the problem with me and Karen. She’s too okay with my shit,” Frank said. “I want her to be happy with that nice Catholic lawyer I had, so she doesn’t shoot anymore people. He'll keep her on the straight and narrow.”

“Karen shot somebody?” Curtis said.

“Shit. I wasn’t supposed to tell you. It was some Fisk guy. Just the one guy. He was holding her hostage, it wasn’t her fault,” Frank said. “But I sort of want that to be her only one, you know?”

“Uh-huh,” Curtis said.

“What?” Frank said.

“I’m just envisioning you and Karen turning into some deranged white Bonnie and Clyde and it’s scaring the hell out of me,” Curtis said.

“Bonnie and Clyde were white, weren’t they?” Frank said.

“That’s your takeaway?” Curtis said, chuckling. “But yeah, I think you and Karen are the type of people who need other people in your life. People who don’t carry guns.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course, the minute I say I'll slow down, I get a bajillion ideas. Or Ibelieveinturtles' offering to the muses _worked_ because she can do magic. Let's go with that one. 
> 
> Apologies to all the hardcore Kastle shippers, but in this AU, Karen is still dating Matt and Frank is...kinda relieved not to be leading Karen into a life of crime? I sort of feel like that's where they would end up, canonically, if they'd ever gotten together for real (I haven't watched S2 yet, still, I've got to process losing the whole Netflix MCU).


	6. Thor's Favorite Brownies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for all your comments and kudos!

Without Pete--or Frank, really--and Dog around, Darcy felt oddly sad and also, a little repulsed at herself. He’d murdered people. Wasn’t it ethically wrong to miss someone who’d done what he’d done? She tried not to think about it, because it made her feel ill and queasy. He’d kissed and touched her with those same hands. It was intensely disturbing to think about him brutalizing people. Instead, she prepped for her tour and talked to Maria Hill. Maria was reassuring, thankfully. SHIELD was tracking the source of that email and going to provide her with some security for the out-of-town things. The source of Maria’s unhappiness at that first meeting was now abundantly clear: she let Darcy know in a subtle way that she’d disapproved of keeping Pete’s real identity a secret from her, given his background. But Darcy found herself more mad at him than SHIELD. He could have told her at any time, after all. When had he been planning to? Weeks? Months? It was all weird and yet she couldn’t stop thinking about it. One night when Thor and Jane had gone to pick up food, she threw herself into re-writing her little script for the book event.  But her brain kept returning to the Frank Castle file again and again. She’d read all of it. At a certain point, it dawned on her that he’d woken up in the hospital after the shooting with a bullet in his head, his entire family gone, and embarked on a revenge spree. He’d never really grieved. Had they even had a funeral? She knew there were graves, it was noted in the file, but not if he’d even been there when the funerals had happened. There were reports that he or someone else had burnt down his house, which meant all of their things had been destroyed. Darcy thought about that and sighed. All the children’s toys and baby photographs, his wife’s wedding dress, all the little odds and ends that symbolized a life, a family. Up in smoke. She looked at her phone. Darcy picked it up and dialed. He answered on the second ring. “Hello,” Frank said, voice clipped.

“Do you have anything that belonged to your family?” she asked quietly. There was a long pause.

“I have my ring,” he said. “I burned the rest of it up in the house.”

“You did that,” Darcy said.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Why did you do that?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. I regret it,” he said. “It was a mistake. Why are you asking me that?”

“I have a friend who might be able to find some photos for you, if any of them were online,” Darcy said. She’d already started the email to Tony.

“I thought you, uh, you didn’t want to see me,” he said.

“I’m not seeing you,” she said. There was a long silence. She heard him breathing. “I should get back to work,” Darcy said. “Bye, Frank.” She paused, then hit the end call button.

“Wait--” she heard him say, but it was too late.

Darcy went back to her event script. She was announcing publicly that she was a single lady. No more lying, no fake relationships. Only real things. Darcy was going to announce it there, then put it up on the blog. She wrote a line about _my relationship ending just as the blog is expanding,_ then crossed it out. That wasn’t right. Instead, she put _sometimes, happy experiences come with sad ones and it felt wrong to mislead my readers into thinking everything is always shiny and happy. But I think the future is going to be full of new and exciting adventures._ That seemed better. More honest. She was puzzling out how to move from that to a recipe smoothly, when the doorbell rang. Darcy got up and peered out the peephole. There was no one in the hallway. Weird, she thought. Was it kids playing a prank? She went back to her work. Then she heard another thump and a knock before the doorbell rang again. Darcy got her taser. She crept quietly to the door and gazed through the peephole. Frank and Dog were standing there. “What are you doing here?” she called out.

“You called me,” he said, sounding grumpy. He looked to the right. “Can we talk?” he said.

“It took two tries for that?” Darcy said, before her brain reminded her it probably wasn’t a hot idea to bait the multiple-murderer.

“I just wanna talk,” he mumbled, rubbing his head. It was her favorite gesture. She sighed and opened the door.

“Come in,” she said. The dog scrambled in, clearly looking for Thor, and she and Frank stood facing each other. He couldn’t actually look at her. “Frank,” she said. “You didn’t tell me the truth.”

“I’m sorry about that,” he said. At her look, he repeated it. “I am sorry,” he said, “I didn’t want--I didn’t want you looking at me the way you’re looking at me now. I wanted to be that guy for you.”

“That guy?” Darcy said.

“Some guy named Pete who’d never hurt anybody? Shit. It was _nice_ to be that guy for awhile,” he said. “But no matter what I do, it always comes back to violence. I can’t get away from--”

“What do you mean, no matter what you do? You didn’t do anything? You just sat there and wooed me and let me believe in your fake identity, my dude,” Darcy said.

“My dude?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I did what now?” Some of his raw edginess had bled away as she challenged him.

“You deliberately seduced me. Twice!” Darcy said. “And stop acting like everything is a foregone conclusion and you’re just dragged into violence. This isn’t Stephen King, there’s no evil artifact, you’ve got choices,” she told him.

“I’ve got choices?” he said. He was openly staring at her now.

“Well, you sure as shit chose to kill people in some creative ways, didn’t you?” Darcy said, before her brain went _whoops-a-daisy, dumbass._

“Eh, some of it was just handy. I mean, there’s something lying around, you can hit a guy with it. Impaling’s not that creative, baby,” he said, scrunching his nose.

“Why are you smiling right now? That is completely inappropriate to this situation,” Darcy said.

“I’ve been wondering about your limits. You don’t want me being the Punisher, huh?” he said.

“Duh,” Darcy said. “Frank, nobody wants you being the Punisher. Not even you.” He cocked his head to the side.

“See, I got this problem where I can’t let things go,” he said.

“Learn,” Darcy said. Stiffly, she added, “I’ve been told that the federal government wants you to learn to let things go, too.” He nodded.

“I been thinking that. I’m a little troublesome, they might decide I’m not worth it, but I need a job--a thing to do. Violence is what I’m good at. Real good.” Darcy shook her head. “So, it’s the violence or you?” he said.

“Yeah,” Darcy said. They stared at each other. “You’ve got to be good enough for me, not just good at violence.”

“Good enough for you,” he said. “And what would you and I do? Run a dog rescue? Bake cookies?” Darcy wondered if he was mocking her. She crossed her arms and waited. “I don’t know if I can do those things,” he said.

“Frank, nobody knows what they can do until they actually do it,” Darcy said. She walked to the door, going around the sofa to put distance between them. She thought she might lose resolve if they got too close. Be tempted to kiss him.

“You’re throwing me out?” he said.

“Nope, I’m giving you space to choose between me and violence,” Darcy  said. She opened the door. He looked at her and walked over, leaning down close, and raked his eyes over her face. Darcy realized she was holding her breath. Frank put his palm across the door.

“I choose you,” he said. He pushed the door near-closed.

“Frank,” Darcy began.

“Shhh,” he said, leaning in close. He kissed her gently. Then the door swung open.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jane said. They turned to look. Jane was frowning. Darcy looked from her to a pleased-looking Thor to the man she’d been caught kissing. Frank’s expression looked abashed, then turned into a slow smile at Jane’s fury.

“Well, uh, I’m no astrophysicist, Shortstack, but I think we were kissing,” Frank said to Jane. Darcy looked over at Jane in alarm, waiting for a slap, but then Jane’s expression softened as Frank pulled Darcy close, so her cheek was against his shoulder. He was holding her tightly, as if he was afraid she’d bolt. She couldn’t see his face, but she could see something in Jane’s changing response to whatever Frank wasn’t saying.

“Frank’s choosing me,” Darcy said simply.

“I am,” Frank said, sounding oddly emotional.

“Also, I think he likes when women are mad at him,” Darcy said, giggling. She wanted to add a little lightness to the serious mood.

“Eh,” Frank said. “Maybe?” He sniffed and she knew then that he’d been crying. “Yes, you can play with the Dog,” he told Thor.

“Excellent,” Thor said.

 

***

 

That night in bed, Frank cleared his throat and looked at her. “This ain’t gonna be easy,” he said. “Don’t think I’m always going to be so calm.”

“I can handle it,” Darcy said. He snorted.

“You sound pretty confident,” he said.

“I could be delusional, but I did keep Jane alive for two years while Thor ghosted on her,” Darcy said. “We thought he ghosted, but he was checking on her. We didn’t know that, though. She once tried to fight a London cabbie.”

“What did the cabbie do?” Frank asked.

“Told her she was too pretty not to smile,” Darcy said. Frank barked out a laugh. He reached over and turned off the light. Darcy leaned against his shoulder. “You can talk about them with me, you know that, right?” Darcy said gently, thumbing at his wedding ring to wipe away a smudged fingerprint. “Whenever and however much you want.” She meant it just as much as when he’d been Pete. More now that she knew they’d been murdered in front of him on the order of people he trusted.

“I know,” he said. He looked down at her. “What are you thinking?” he asked.

“Maybe there’s no reason to hide this?” Darcy said.

“You saying I should wear my ring?” he said.

“If you want,” Darcy said gently. “I think it would be good if you wanted to be reminded of the important parts of your life.”

“What about you?” he said, voice slightly rough. “Doesn’t that disrespect you?” Darcy shook her head vehemently.

“That you were capable of loving and caring for someone _disrespects_ me? I’m not hurt by you having a good past to grieve over. I’m not a kid, Frank,” Darcy said. She looked at him seriously and he gazed back at her for a moment. “I think you need to grieve,” she said.

“I need to grieve?” he said.

“You let anger take the place of grieving,” she whispered.

“Maybe,” he said, eyes not moving off her face. His expression shifted between seriousness and smiling.

“You’re not a kid, huh? That’s a surprise with those tiny little girl socks on. What are those, triangles?” he said teasingly. Darcy wiggled her toes.

“Excuse me, those are blocks of cheese,” she said. “Heathen.” But she smiled when he slipped his ring off the dog tag chain and back on his finger. She only had to help him wipe his tears a little bit.

 

***

 

“You’re sure you can go to that reading by yourself?” Jane asked the next morning, when Darcy dropped her and Thor off at the airport. They were headed to her overseas conference.

“I won’t be by myself; Frank says he’ll be there and Maria Hill is definitely coming and she’ll be armed,” Darcy said.

“Good,” Jane said, hugging Darcy. “I’m sorry I’ll miss it.”

“Me, too,” Darrcy said.

“Are you sure about Frank?” Jane asked.

“We’re playing it by ear,” Darcy said. “This is pretty new for both of us.” She was trying to be careful with him in the ways that mattered, while holding him to normal-ish standards of behavior. No acts of violence. No shootings. No stabbings.

 

Darcy spoke to Maria when she got to the bookstore and then was led away by the store’s events manager and a twenty-something assistant for her agent’s DC office named Kaitlin. “I usually do, like, books on the Federalist Society, so this is really exciting,” Kaitlin told her, beaming. “Is Thor here?”

“Um, sorry, no,” Darcy said, not disclosing his whereabouts. “But he’ll be at later things. Do we have anything to give away or sign besides my t-shirts?” The book hadn’t been printed yet, but they were pushing pre-orders.

“We’ve got that profile of you in the magazine,” Kaitlin said. “Don’t worry too much. Think of this as a practice run for public-speaking. We just want you to be comfortable. We’ve got you set up in the cafe.”

“Comfortable,” Darcy repeated with a little laugh. She was so much better at this for other people, she thought. She sucked at calming herself down. Why was that?

It was a pretty small crowd, but Darcy was glad to see Maria’s cool smile in the audience. She was midway through an anecdote about chasing adventures with Jane being good practice for creative baking when she saw Frank moving around someone. He grinned at her. He had a great smile. It made her feel buoyed, even when she stumbled a bit as she poured her demonstration chocolate. “And that’s how you make Thor’s favorite brownies!” she said, laughing.

“He doesn’t mind if you spill?” a woman said.

“He likes to lick the bowl,” Darcy supplied.

“I thought he liked to lick the floor,” Frank said, which made Darcy really laugh. She caught people looking at Frank and whispering. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said to the crowd. “I’m kinda the boyfriend. This week. She might trade me for that guy, uh, whatshisname, honey? Fanshaw?”

“I am not trading you for Fandral,” Darcy said firmly. The audience laughed and that helped her jitters. It was a good time. She even signed a few t-shirts.

 

“Your boyfriend is really cute,” Kaitlin told her, as they packed up.

“Yeah, he is,” Darcy said, smiling brightly. Frank was talking to Maria a few feet away. Darcy had volunteered to help with everything being put away, which seemed to surprise the store’s events manager. Apparently--she managed events for all the chain bookstore’s DC metro and northern Virginia locations--that was a clear sign that Darcy was a first-time author. Then she and Kaitlin told hilarious bad author stories. They involved a lot of being late for signings and refusing to sign things.

“And then he just gets up--there are fifty people waiting to sign his book--and leaves!” the event manager said. “Nobody can find him. We check the bathroom. We check the parking lot. Finally, someone finds him smoking pot with a sales associate from the mattress store across the street!”

“Oh my God,” Darcy said, laughing. “That terrible, but also a great story. Speaking of authors behaving badly, I really need to pee, where is the bathroom?” She stopped by Maria and Frank on her way, relieved that they seemed to be on friendly terms. “I just have to go to the bathroom,” Darcy said, smiling when Frank kissed her on the cheek. “Maybe we can get a drink afterwards? I feel all wound up.”

“Sounds great,” Maria said.

“You did great,” Frank called, as she headed to the back of the store. She already had her coat on.

 

***

 

She was washing her hands when the man walked into the bathroom. She looked up quizzically into the mirror and saw the knife in his hand a fraction of a second too late. “Shhh,” the goon said, holding the knife at her throat. “Don’t make a sound. Shhhh,” he repeated. Darcy tried to convey that she would be perfectly silent with her eyes. There was a tense moment where all she could concentrate on was the feeling of the knife. It was a small thing, she realized, but terrifying. It felt like all the world was teetering on that edge, tucked against her skin. “We’re going to walk out of here like a couple,” he said. “Very quietly. Then we’ll trade you for your pal Jane Foster. You understand?”

She walked out carefully. He’d slung a heavy arm around her neck. The knife was very close. Darcy didn’t know if Frank and Maria would see her as they went out the door. She prayed they would. “Walk faster,” he hissed, when she slowed her steps as they neared the store’s exit.  Everything was so normal, she thought. How strange. The ringing of the cash register, the music, the smell of paper books, and coffee. A kid ran across the aisle. Someone laughed. “Move,” the man said to Darcy. She looked around longingly for someone, anyone to notice she was being kidnapped. “Open the door,” he told her. She pushed it open. It was dark outside. The air was cold and wet with rain. They were nearing a car and her ears were alert for anything when she heard his voice.

“Hey!” Frank yelled. Her assailant turned. She took that moment to try to move, to fight back.  Too late, Darcy registered the tension against her skin when his arm tightened reflexively. When the blood--her blood--started to drip down her neck, she looked down. Blood. So much blood.

Time seemed to slow down then. Someone screamed. Was that her? The horrified woman carrying shopping bags some five feet away? Or was it her kidnapper? Then Darcy heard a roar of rage from somewhere behind her. She looked up into the stranger’s blue eyes as he backed away, dropping the knife. She began to feel dizzy, watching as the man ran. Then she felt the ground slide out from under her. Or she slid out from under it. Lying on the pavement, she heard footsteps and saw Frank above her. Distantly, she heard Maria chasing someone.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter basically ends right before the first part of chapter one, so imagine that we’ve essentially looped back to that moment before the next chapter begins. 
> 
> Anyways, I love Frank Castle, (especially his character development from mystery terrorizer to sometimes horrifying, sometimes intensely sympathetic figure over Daredevil S2; I feel like the Punisher S1 repeats that cycle in certain ways, but humanizes him less well, even if Curtis is amazing & my fave), so I wrote this to be able to imagine him grasping that violence is a choice.


	7. Frank Wakes Up In A Hospital

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing! Thanks for your comments and kudos on this one! Y'all are awesome!

“Don’t, don’t go after them, Frank,” Darcy repeated. He held a t-shirt from the woman against her wound and lay down slowly on the pavement, so that he was next to her. Darcy looked at him. His expression was agonizing.

“I’m right here,” he said. “I’m staying right here, all right? Not going anywhere.”

“Okay,” she said, eyes on his face. They stayed that way until the ambulance arrived. To Frank, it seemed like a very long time.

“Keep your eyes open, honey,” he said. “Can you--can you do that for me?”

“I will,” she said, focused on him. If she focused, they weren’t on the wet, bloody ground. She could imagine that he was just next to her on the pillow.

 

***

 

“Frank?” He woke up in the hospital. A monitor was beeping rhythmically. Frank jumped, suddenly realizing where he was, and looking at the figure in the bed who’d said his name. “Hey,” Darcy said. She had rolled over to face him. She was pale and there was a wide bandage covering her neck. She'd needed stitches and there would be a scar, the doctor had told him, but he had probably saved her life by holding something over the wound. If he'd left, If he'd left...

 “Jane’s here,” he said, words spilling out. “Thor brought her back an hour ago. She’s--she’s gonna be so mad she went to get coffee. Maria, she got the guy. He's talking now. You’re safe, all right. You’re safe.”

“You stayed,” Darcy said. She reached her hand out and he took it.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m not leaving.” He rubbed her hand with his thumb, careful of the IV line. There were abrasions on her arm. She’d scratched it falling on the pavement. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job taking care of you--” he began.

“No, I meant before,” Darcy told him. He looked up to find she was grinning. Her voice was hoarse. “You didn’t go beat the hell out of a HYDRA goon. That’s progress for you.”

“Are you--are you sassing me in the hospital?” Frank said, torn between bafflement and delight that she wasn’t angry or upset. He'd failed in his original job and she wasn't mad.

“Nobody expects sass in the hospital, huh?” Darcy said.

“No,” he said. “No, they don’t.” He shook his head.

“Pfffhhht,” Darcy said. “You think this is my first rodeo? Ask Jane about that time I tased Dr. Grab-Ass in Oslo. And make sure they get me the good drugs.”

“Uh-huh,” Frank said. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

***

 

A bandaged and healing Darcy smiled up at the photos of a baby Lisa and Maria on the wall above the couch. “You think this is a good spot?” Frank asked, glancing back at her.

“Come down and look, then we can figure out where to put the others,” Darcy said. Tony had located some of Frank’s family photographs for them and Darcy was helping Frank hang them in his apartment. They had decided that he needed space and time before they moved in together. Frank had offered, but Darcy thought it was too soon. She wanted him to be able to retreat to a safe place if he needed quiet. In the meantime, Darcy was trying to make his place feel like it belonged to the normal world. She’d bought a bed and toys for Dog and cooking utensils and blankets for her to use when she stayed over. They had a schedule of date-like activities: movie nights, visits to the dog park, even a planned outing to the science museum with Jane and Thor. Once she was healed enough, Frank was going with her on her book tour.

 

“You’re okay?” he asked later. They were curled up on the couch.

“I’m good,” Darcy said. “I might need to stay the whole weekend, though.” Her neck scar wasn’t pretty, but he didn’t seem to notice. Also, she’d sent out a joking email about being on the wrong end of a portal. Whoops. Jane had not been ready for jokes yet.

“I get you for a whole weekend?” Frank said, grinning. “What’d you do, lose her dry erase markers?”

“Something like that,” Darcy said, turning over so they faced each other. “Hi, Frank.”

“Hi, Darcy,” he said, touching her face.

 

-The End-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is there an official name for Darcy/Frank yet? I sort of think Darcy would vote for PunShock and then make dorky jokes about Frank being a "real lady killer."


End file.
